He meowed, rubbing his head against my stomach. I was picking up on that cue. When he purred like he was doing now and rubbed himself against me, he was happy.
I squeezed him gently, and he cried out, his chest rising and falling heavily.
“What about this?” I slipped him out of the lace so that Kit’s cock rested in my palm. For a little boy, he was quite thick but average in length. Precum glistened on the head. My nostrils flared, and my mouth watered. For a taste of him.
Holy fuck, I wanted this boy’s cock inside my mouth.
Kit writhed under me and batted at my chest with his palms. He wanted more. His eyes were feverish, his lips slightly parted in silent exclamations.
I stroked him from tip to base, and he moaned, never once getting out of character. He moved in tandem with each stroke, thrusting his pelvis, fucking my fist. The pink in his cheeks ran down his body, spread across his tight, toned stomach. He pumped his hips urgently, desperately, seeking, begging, needing.
I wrung a precious cry from his lips. His head pushed back into my thighs as he came, splattering his stomach and the back of my hand. He was so beautiful like that, so soft and radiant as he came down from his high with a sigh.
Kit reached for my hand with globs of his cum and brought it to his lips. Purring, he licked up his mess with long, sensual strokes.
I should get the hell out of there. I’d just lectured him on rules and how I never broke them. Yet here I was, breaking my number one rule of never getting involved with someone I worked with. When he finished licking my hand clean, he scooped what was on his stomach onto his finger and popped it into his mouth, all the while staring at me from half-lidded eyes.
The urge to leave warred with the need to make sure he was okay with what had just happened. He turned over onto his stomach, put his head into my lap, and closed his eyes. A hand grabbed my shirt front as if he was afraid I would try to separate us.
Using my foot, I snagged the blanket he had spread on the cushions on the floor and pulled it over him. He purred and snuggled even closer to me. I patted his head. “There’s a good little kitten.”
For now, I contented myself with holding him. There was no way in hell I could ever let this happen again. Kit could easily make me lose myself and risk everything I’d worked so hard to accomplish in all these years.
Better to just pet him for now. Later I’d remind myself why acting on this attraction I felt for him couldn’t work.